


Evil Queens Have Their Uses (I suppose)

by WafflesnRizzles



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: But Regina kind of digs that, Emma is kind of an idiot, F/F, Lil' bit o' smut, Slightly humorous, The dry kind, lil' bit of fluff, swendgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WafflesnRizzles/pseuds/WafflesnRizzles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was on that day that Emma Swan, harlot Savior extraordinaire, managed to accidentally break a curse by cheating on her (now) ex-boyfriend with two women who happened to be the same woman who are now definitively the same woman once more."</p><p>Since they arrived back from New York, Storybrooke has been strangely quiet and Emma has been conspicuously absent, a SQ oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evil Queens Have Their Uses (I suppose)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot, set right after the gang arrives back from New York. Enjoy!

It had been far too quiet the last two weeks, but Regina knew the Evil Queen had to have something up her ridiculously bejeweled sleeve. The Savior, of course, was certainly not in agreement with her, and was infuriatingly blase about the fact that an unencumbered Evil Queen and Hyde were out there somewhere with vengeance on their minds.

It was decidedly odd, though, that Snow White and Charming seemed as concerned as she. But she certainly wasn’t going to look a gift ally in the mouth, as battle-useless as said allies might be, because that meant that plenty of town meetings were called and that they had a whole slew of bodies to patrol the town. Because the Savior, strangely enough, was giving away her shifts at the station like she didn’t have rent to pay or a rapidly growing son to feed every other week.

  
The clock’s minute hand finally reaches the twelve in city hall, and Regina calls their fourth town meeting on the State of the Evil Queen to order. “We will begin with a report from Ruby, in lieu of the Sheriff’s absence again. We will then proceed with reports from Grumpy, the Charmings and will then open the floor up for questions and discussion.” Regina announces. She remembers the chaos that had ensued in the questions and discussion part, and quickly added, “This time in an ordered and singular fashion, please.”

The reports had essentially brought nothing new to light. There had, once again, been no sightings of either Hyde or the Queen. Regina had reminded the crowd, again, to ask Regina ‘safety questions’ that only the real Regina would know the answer to if they ever were to meet her on the street. It was tiresome to have to answer a strange, sometimes far too intimate question every time she met one of her neighbors, but it certainly was better to be safe than sorry.

  
The meeting adjourned, Regina turns to the Charmings and asks to meet with them up at their loft in fifteen minutes. Regina sees the townspeople out, answering their idiotic questions as she slowly ushers them out of the building. When she sees the only person left is Archie, she sighs heavily. “Yes, Archie?”

  
He smiles his usual, pitying half-smile at her. It simultaneously makes her feel defensive and safe. “I was wondering how you were coping. Severing from half of yourself can’t be very easy.” His grey-blue eyes were downcast as he said this, but they flick up to catch her response.

 

“I’m fine,” Regina says all-too quickly. Realizing this, she elaborates more calmly, “I’m glad to be rid of her.” Regina doesn’t mention that she feels pockets of emptiness now where there once was self-confidence and fortitude. That where there was once sharp angles and bite, there are now tears and a weakness she isn’t sure how to overcome. Where there was once strength, there is now just an indefatigable sadness.

 

She smiles, and knows Archie isn’t fooled and that he will continue to softly approach her until she opens up. It amazes her how much he cares, and though that realization would usually make her walls shoot miles high, now it only makes her wonder why she deserves his attention at all.

 

Archie nods his head deferentially and leaves, his long, leisurely stride taking him back through the streets to the dog Regina secretly loved. He, too, had soulful eyes that saw so easily through her walls. He could read her moods and pinpoint exactly what she wanted without her even having uttered a word. Had Pongo been a human, Regina would have been terrified that he could read her so easily; but as he was a dog, she knew he was both fiercely loyal and a veritable vault. That is, if you didn’t try to extract his memories without at least asking him for some context.

 

These thoughts carried Regina to the door of the Charmings’ apartment. She could already hear baby Neal crying on the other side, and could also hear the heavy footfalls of a very pregnant Snow approaching the door.

 

The two smile tightly at each other in greeting. They might be family, and they certainly have hit the point of civility, but the term ‘friendly’ still doesn’t quite apply. Regina is ushered to the kitchen table, which is cluttered with juice cups, Neal’s toys and a half-empty box of Granny’s pastries.

 

“Emma’s been by?” Regina asks idly, eyeing the greasy bearclaws.

 

“Yes, she stopped by yesterday morning before her shift. We haven’t seen much of her since we got back from New York.”

 

Regina hums in acknowledgement, smiling gratefully at her former stepdaughter as she is handed a warm cup of coffee.

 

“So what did you want to talk with us about?” Charming asks, climbing down the stairs with a happily babbling Neal. He wordlessly hands his son to Regina, who instantly gives the little boy an adoring kiss.

 

“What I failed to announce at the meeting today is that I know that the Queen has been using my vault.”

 

Snow and Charming’s twin wide-eyed looks almost make Regina laugh, but she contains it to a wry smirk. “I haven’t seen her there, but things go missing and come back arranged differently, and I know the bitch has been sitting in my chair.” Regina has a thing about her chairs. That is: you don’t fucking touch them. And large, ostentatious dresses have a habit of screwing up seat cushions and leaving feathery accoutrements behind. In a word, Regina is _pissed_. 

  
Snow nods knowingly. As friendly as her stepmother had been while married to her father, she certainly did have a thing about her throne. And her dinner chair. And the chair in front of her vanity. And the seat she always sat in when they went out in the carriage. Now that she thinks of it, most of the times Regina had really snapped at her when she was young was when she violated the unspoken ‘don’t sit in my chair’ rule.

 

“So what do we do?” Charming asks, wondering at his wife’s wincing face.

 

Regina smiles widely. “We trap her in there, and I go undercover as the Evil Queen to find Hyde.” She folds her hands primly in front of her, rather pleased with herself for the idea.

 

“While that sounds great--” Charming starts cautiously.

 

“Emma’s not going to like it.” Snow finishes.

 

Regina huffs, bouncing baby Neal on her knee and addressing him rather than the idiot Charmings, “Well, Neal. Because your sister has been so helpful the past two weeks, I think she doesn’t deserve to be part of this plan, don’t you think?”

  
Neal simply smiles and giggles, making grabby hands at Regina’s necklace. “See?” Regina says to the Charmings. “He agrees. Useless Sheriffs should remain useless.”  


“But she’s the--”

 

“Savior? The only thing she’s saved in the last few weeks has been a pastry from an untimely demise in the trash, so I do think we can handle this on our own, Charming.”

 

Regina should have been reveling in the resignation on the faces of her former enemies, but where there was once resignation there was now only grudging acceptance.

 

“Good. Now, what I need you two to do is to help me stakeout the Vault. I have no idea when she comes and goes, and if we can establish a pattern, I can lay a short-lived spell that will contain her for twenty-four hours.”

 

The two agree, and they establish a rotating schedule of eight hour shifts for the next two days. If it means Emma has to take an extra shift at the station, so be it.

\-----

Regina had agreed to take the overnight shift so here she is at eleven in the evening bundled up like a Michelin man in her cold-as-balls vault with only the oddly itchy feeling of an invisibility glamour and a trashy novel of Snow’s to keep her amused. Snow hadn’t reported anything from her shift, and five hours into her shift there wasn’t even the suggestion of purple smoke.

 

It’s when she hears the groan of the secret coffin door above her that Regina finally feels warmth seep back into her bones as adrenaline begins to kick in. She reminds herself that this is simply an information-gathering stakeout and not a planned confrontation, but that does nothing to stop the pounding of blood in her ears or her hands from immediately moving into attack position.

 

She finds it strange that The Evil Queen would choose to use the front entrance rather than simply poofing--

 

Oh.

 

It’s Emma.

  
She’s wearing a dress and heels and--is she wearing perfume, too? Regina makes sure to breathe as normally as possible as Emma walks right by her, her long, toned legs sweeping right by Regina’s nose. Emma leans up against the vanity, her muscled arms flexing as they support some of her weight. Regina’s mouth feels decidedly dry and she wishes she had thought to bring some water with her.

 

Regina must have been focusing a bit too hard on the anomaly that was Emma Swan in a dress in her vault at night, because she failed to notice the Evil Queen poof her way in.

 

“My, my, Miss Swan. You’re looking particularly...edible tonight.”

 

And Emma Swan has the audacity to blush as the Evil Queen saunters up to her wearing--

 

Oh gods, was she wearing...

 

It’s the leather outfit, the one she only wears when she’s--

 

Yes. It’s there. The riding crop is definitely there.

 

Regina suddenly feels very, very faint, which only gets exacerbated when the Evil Queen leans forward and licks Emma Swan’s neck. And Regina can’t quite leave because sliding marble coffins aren’t exactly the most silent of escape routes; but she can’t quite leave by magic, either, because then they’ll see her magical signature.

 

Maybe if she just closes her eyes--

 

But the sounds Emma is making are positively obscene, and definitely do not have Regina’s mind conjuring up a thousand different NC-17 images at all.

 

Eyes still closed, Regina begins inching her way along the wall, intent upon rounding the corner into a second room, where maybe, if she’s lucky, she’ll be able to poof away without being detected as Emma and the Evil Queen are particularly...occupied.

 

Regina hears the distinct sound of clothing hitting stone and hears the sound of a body hitting a wall as well as an accompanying whimper. Well this certainly explains why Emma had been walking strangely the last time Regina had caught a glimpse of her. It also likely explains why Emma had been avoiding Regina the past two weeks and why she and the dirty pirate had gotten into a particularly bad row that had culminated in the pirate taking up residence again in his houseboat.

 

The thought of which, of course, made Regina particularly satisfied, the origins of which she had previously been able to ignore pondering. But now, confronted with the reality of Emma Swan fucking the Evil Queen, Regina grudgingly admits that she maybe has a small infatuation with the imbecilic Savior.

 

Who, in her opinion, is infinitely more imbecilic now that she is screwing the epitome of heartlessness and Evil. What in the Hell is she even thinking?

 

Regina hears the authoritative sound of leather against bare flesh and she shudders involuntarily as heat pools in her belly. A moan of “your majesty” echoes around the stone vault and Regina feels a strange mix of jealousy and amusement.

 

The Evil Queen had always taken whatever she wanted; Regina had learned that oftentimes it was necessary to let what you wanted come to you. Perhaps she should have taken a page out of the Evil Queen’s book regarding Emma Swan. As is, here she is scooting in a decidedly unregal fashion along the floor with her eyes closed while the object of her desires is naked and being thoroughly fucked by her Evil half.

  
Gods, she’s such a coward.

 

It’s when Emma Swan shouts, “Regina!” and comes with a shuddering moan that Regina simply can’t handle it and poofs her way back to her mansion.

 

It’s not ten minutes later that there is a loud hammering on her front door. Regina knows it’s Emma Swan (who else would have the effrontery to treat her front door as if it’s a kickboxing sandbag?) and sighs into her cider before walking to the door and opening it.

 

“Yes, Miss Swan?” Regina asks, arching her eyebrow in a show of indifference. She doesn’t step aside as Emma is clearly expecting her to. She can still smell Emma’s perfume and the distinct musky scent of arousal and the Evil Queen and--really, who does she think she is?

 

“Regina. I can explain--” Emma starts, her green eyes wide with desperation.

 

“Explain, what, exactly? That you were the one to suggest I cleave myself from my evil half so that you can turn around and fuck her? That you deliberately went behind all of our backs to meet with her while our entire town is on Red Alert looking for her? How you screwed her in my vault? Was the dirty pirate not enough for you?”

She neglects to say the words burning in her mind, ‘Was I not enough for you?’

 

Regina feels a strange mix of pain and euphoria knowing that Emma seemingly accepts the worst parts of her, but simultaneously rejects the parts that are striving to be better. She wants to know why, but doesn’t dare voice the question for fear that she won’t like the truth.

 

Emma’s eyes search hers desperately, her mouth opening and closing but words refusing to come out. She fidgets with the knit cap she is holding and sighs a sigh of frustration.

 

She smiles sadly and shrugs, saying simply, “She wanted me.”

 

The unspoken ‘and you didn’t’ hanging in the air between the two women.

 

“So she claims she wants you and suddenly you have a burning desire for an Evil Queen?” Regina can’t help it that the words are dry, like too many saltines and no beverage in sight.

 

Emma is looking down at her brown boots now, shift her weight subtly from one foot to the other. “It’s been there for awhile.”

 

Regina’s breath does not hitch when she asks, “How long?”

“Ever since I first was offered a glass of the best apple cider I’ve ever tasted.”

And Regina really shouldn’t be kissing Emma Swan when she’s still sort of dating the pirate and when she still definitely smells like the Evil Queen, but she’s doing it anyway, and it feels curiously like she’s already done this before.  
Her lips are soft and insistent on Regina’s, and with every soft tug of them she feels her heart expand tenfold. It’s when Emma’s hands wrap around her waist that she feels a shockwave burst from where their lips are touching, and she doesn’t have to look to know that they’ve just shared True Love’s Kiss because she feels the empty parts of herself slowly filling up like water in a bathtub.

It was on that day that Emma Swan, harlot Savior extraordinaire, managed to accidentally break a curse by cheating on her (now) ex-boyfriend with two women who happened to be the same woman who are now definitively the same woman once more.


End file.
